


On Our Worst Behavior

by gigantic



Category: Bandom, Hip Hop RPF, Music RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-19
Updated: 2009-05-19
Packaged: 2017-11-27 06:27:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/658924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gigantic/pseuds/gigantic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a tour hook-up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Our Worst Behavior

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, [this is Asher Roth](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VRVFfgoIKcg). And [this is Asher Roth](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4L2wW2FqhJE) as well. But, like, this is [_also_ Asher Roth](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BGeX_z73tDg)? And after a series of random Youtube videos and blog articles I looked at when I read that he'd be on some of the Blink 182 dates this summer, I went from thinking he was mostly a douchenugget to thinking he was actually not entirely terrible. And then pretty much challenged me, and so now there's this, because we all know I can't resist random shit. The title is almost a Keri Hilson lyric.

Brendon isn't sure how last minute it is, but he doesn't hear about Chester French dropping the Pennsylvania dates until they're in Boston.

"Wait," he says to DA, passing his glass pipe back. It's an orange and green salamander. It's pretty much the cutest fucking pipe Brendon's seen in months, and it packs a decent bowl, and _now_ it's leaving for like a week. "David-Andrew. Don't bullshit me."

"We'll be back in Omaha. I think," DA says, scratching his head and then wiping his hand on his pants pocket. He looks around and finds Max, saying, "Right? Nebraska."

"What the fuck?" Brendon says. Somebody should have told him. He's so left out all the time.

Max kicks his feet up, draping them over the arm of the couch in the dressing room backstage. He says, "You won't even notice! Back in a flash. Eat a Philly cheese steak, down a Chicago hot dog, and we'll be back before you know. That rapper is filling in -- Asher."

"Man," Brendon says. "Can we at least pack one more, then? I should find Spencer and bring him here."

"Sure," DA says, pulling out his Ziplock bag and breaking up the goods with his fingers. Brendon should definitely find Spencer, but what he ends up doing is sitting on the floor and watching DA work, thinking about how good a cheesesteak would be now that he's thinking about it.

Fuck, he's pretty sure they're not even going to Philly.

;;

All Brendon knows about Asher Roth is that he loves college. That, and also that Brendon's not even allowed to sing that song anymore, because he sang it for a week straight a couple months ago until Ryan threatened him. He'd sworn to do creative things with his vocal cords if he didn't stop and reminded Brendon that the closest he'd been to college was fucking Audrey in Jac's friend's dorm room once, although, honestly, that had been an awesome fucking night, so Brendon doesn't even get how that was supposed to be a stab. But since he does like his vocal chords though, Brendon declared a moratorium. He wonders if things might be different now that this Asher dude is actually on tour with them.

It's easy to figure out who he is among the tour faces, because Brendon's been staring at everyone else for a week straight already.

It also helps that Asher actually goes around and introduces himself to everybody, and when Brendon shakes his hand, he says, "Don't take this the wrong way, but you are way more soft-spoken than I thought you would be."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Asher says with a faint smile, "only if you promise not to think a little less of me when I tell you I'm kinda hung-over right now. Maybe --"

"-- that could have something to do with it," Brendon says. He's more than a little familiar with hangovers that set you back a few hours. "Your secret's safe with me."

;;

It turns out that his hangover isn't without reason. Asher has friends and family that show up later in the day, people coming to see the show and wish him a happy one.

Brendon runs into him again by one of the big rigs, walking with Jon. Asher's standing with a couple people, and a girl gives him a hug and says, "Happy birthday, Ash. You're getting old, dude."

"Whoa, you didn't say it was your birthday," Brendon says, stopping on the skateboard he's been pushing along.

"Yeah, yeah," Asher says, looking past his friend for a second and nodding. "Welcome to being twenty-four, I guess. Suddenly I can't pack 'em in like I could three years ago." He nudges the girl's shoulder and gestures to Brendon and Jon. "Yo, these are a couple guys from the tour. Brendon and -- Jon, right? They're in Panic at the Disco. Guys, these are a couple of my friends from home, Dave and Liz."

"Nice to meet you," Jon says, and they wave and shake hands in greeting. Stepping back, Brendon says, "That's cool. You got people coming out for your birthday at least."

"Well, yeah," Asher says. "I mean, it's only, what, like a two-hour drive? They just came up from Morrisville, man. Hershey is a hop, skip, and a jump --"

"Or you're from around here?" Jon asks.

"PA-born and raised," Asher says. "Why do you think I'm hung-over? I'm struggling right now."

Laughing, Brendon says, "Then it really sucks if you can hold your liquor anymore. Can't party with all the people that are gonna come to see you tonight."

"Can't drink, can't smoke," his friend Dave says.

"Man, fuck you, I can smoke." Asher steps back, grinning at the concrete. "Bucky came through last night when I got into town and handed me a fucking, like, good health eighth as soon as he saw me. I can smoke weed all day."

Eyebrows raised, Brendon says, "Now that might be a real friend," and he looks to Jon, who nods solemnly in agreement. 

"You guys blaze?" Asher asks. He thumbs towards the tour buses, saying, "I rolled a couple Phillies this morning. They're on my bus. I was gonna have a sit down with these guys right now."

"Is that an invitation?" Brendon asks.

Jon says, "Because he really doesn't need to be asked twice," and Asher just grins.

;;

An hour later, Brendon and Jon find Zack and Ryan, and Jon announces that, "Brendon's already using the new guy for weed."

"No, I'm not. It was a happy discovery. Coincidence," and he turns around and elbows Jon a little, saying, "You benefited." 

Ryan looks at them, stilling his hands on the acoustic guitar in his lap. He motions to Brendon and says, "Come here?" Brendon leans down and lets Ryan squint at him. "You need eye drops."

"I'm not worried," Brendon says, although when he stands up, his stomach growls. He _is_ concerned with how fucking hungry he is suddenly. "Is there a fast food place nearby? I think I need a value meal."

"No, but there are chips in the next room," Zack says. 

Those don't sound nearly as appetizing as some greasy fries, but Brendon goes to get a huge bag of Doritos anyway. As he walks back into the room with everyone else, he says, "It's his birthday, too. A bunch of his friends are around. I think they're having a party."

"Who?" Ryan says.

"Asher."

"That's where you're going after the show?"

Brendon says, "No, I was saying just in case you wanted to make it a group adventure." He pops a chip into his mouth. "It's a party."

"So we can watch you make out with the new guy for weed?" Zack asks.

"I'm not," Brendon says. He isn't. "I don't do that. Anyway, he already smoked me out."

;;

Truthfully, though, truthfully. Brendon doesn't hook up with people for drugs. He likes pot and he likes kissing, and sometimes these things are conveniently wrapped up in the same package. The peanut gallery can stop making up lies about him any day now. Offering him a couple joints is not a free pass to make out and cop a feel. 

(Except for that one time, with Travis, but that was also because they smoked pot and then had a conversation about how pot actually does make them horny sometimes, and really, Brendon's always been a problem solver at heart. At least, he'd like to think so. Travis sure had been.)

Which Brendon says to Asher, once he's had three beers and shared three joints among a few people during the time it takes to move from backstage to Asher's bus. Brendon says, "I'm just saying that I object to the implication that I'm that kid. Making deals. Sex trades."

"What?" Asher says, laughing as he hands Brendon another bottle of UFO. 

"I don't know," Brendon says. "I forgot what I was talking about."

Asher shakes his his head. He says, "Dude. My aunt? I have this aunt that lives up near Poughkeepsie, and she used to be like, 'Asher. When you meet somebody, don't open your legs right away. A real lady can hold a dime between her knees.' And I'd be like, 'Aunt Pat, I'm a little boy.' She bought me a skirt for my birthday once." 

"Maybe it was a kilt," Brendon says.

"It was teal, and it was a skirt, man." Asher reaches out to nab the beer he just handed off. He takes a swig and then passes it back. Brendon looks at the bottle and then back up, but Asher just shrugs. "I love my aunt. She's crazy as hell, but I love that lady."

"But have you kept your virtue?" Brendon asks. "Would she be proud?"

Asher winces and says, "Well. Maybe not so much these days. I've dropped the dime a few times," and Brendon chuckles, knocking down more of his beer.

"Well, I'm a lady," Brendon says, eying Asher and pointing a finger at him. 

"My aunt would appreciate that."

Brendon shakes his head, saying, "Although my shirt tends to come off when I'm drunk. And I've had a few. So watch out."

"Noted," Asher says. "I promise to draw obscene shit on your chest."

;;

So it really isn't a surprise when Brendon ends up wearing his shirt like a headband and walking around with a picture of a stick figure man fucking a stick figure horse on his stomach. Or, well, it's a brand new surprise to him every time he walks by a reflective surface, because he keeps forgetting that's what it is.

They get to the hotel, and Brendon runs into Ryan, who says, "Do you know there's a bestiality scene on your stomach?"

Brendon looks down and says, "Yeah. Oh, yeah. We spent a while trying to decide between this or a dolphin."

He smiles wide, and it feels nice. It's nice outside. In general, Brendon's feeling really good, and Asher mentioned something about packing a gravity bong. The night could get better still. 

"Your taste in new friends..." Ryan says, like he's joking, except it's Ryan, so it comes off like he's judging Brendon to his face. 

"I mean, I do hang out with you," Brendon says, throwing one right back, and Ryan shrugs his shoulders and cracks his knuckles.

Ryan asks, changing tracks, "Are you coming back tonight?"

"Don't know yet," Brendon says, which is pretty true. The night is still young. He saw two girls make out, and he's kind of hoping Asher has the kind of friends that like jumping on bandwagons.

He really only comes back to make sure his things get stuffed into his room, and then Brendon changes t-shirts again and goes to find the suite Asher's in. A lot of people have gone home, but when he walks into the room, Asher says, "Hey, Brendon," and motions him over. He nudges Brendon's shoulder and says, "Hit this."

It's a great way to enter a room, in Brendon's opinion. He takes the hit, inhaling and trying to hold in smoke, but he's pretty gone already. His focus is lacking.

"You put on another shirt," Asher says, patting Brendon's back as he makes the observation. 

"Yeah," Brendon says, tugging on his collar. "We'll see how long this one lasts."

;;

By three in the morning, Brendon ends up sitting on the floor in the corner next to Asher while he sings the verses of "All Star" with a hand in the air. The rest of the people in the room -- just four others beside Brendon now -- pick up the chorus, and Brendon harmonizes where he can.

As someone else takes the second verse, Brendon leans over and says, "You just lost so much credibility by knowing the words to that song."

"Why?" Asher says, already grinning as he speaks. He squints when he laughs. "Dude, the uncool shit I could serenade you with. Don't get me started."

"Oh, no, now I'm interested," Brendon says. "Please tell me there's some random New Kids On The Block you're about to bring out."

Asher says, "Trust me, I got the right stuff," which makes Brendon roll his eyes as he falls back, giggling. Asher just lifts his chin, dedicated to his goofiness. "That's like -- what the fuck is there to do after class but blaze and end up in some stupid sing-along?"

"I guess," Brendon says. Although, truth be told, that sounds a lot like the way his days go now. Work. A joint. Playing some songs on guitar and singing. "What did you even study in college?"

"I wanted to be a teacher, man."

"You're not serious," Brendon says, giving Asher a sidelong glance.

Asher says, "As a heart attack," but he smiles again. "You don't believe me? I wanted to help the kids."

Brendon shakes is head. "No bullshit? Honest truth."

" _Yes_ ," Asher says, tipping sideways to bump his shoulder into Brendon's. "I was an elementary education major."

"I believe that children are our future," Brendon sings, and then he hums the rest of the line, because he doesn't know the lyrics.

Scoffing, Asher says, "Now who's letting their embarrassing blitzed playlist come out?"

;;

The mildly embarrassing part of the night occurs when Brendon ends up passing out in Asher's room because he's too wasted to make it back to his own. He tries to stand up to go to the bathroom, slips, falls, and decides he was pretty ready for bed anyway. On the plus side, however, Brendon doesn't try to make out with anybody, and especially not to bribe them out of booze and pot. He is going to take his dime and shove it all in Ryan's face in the morning.

"Urie," he hears, and that's when he realizes he's using someone's shoe as a pillow on the floor. "Brendon, hey."

"Huh," Brendon says, shifting. It's Asher.

He says, "Dude, come up here at least," and Brendon likes the idea of having a pillow, so he doesn't waste time moving.

;;

In the morning, his mouth tastes like skunk ass. Brendon slips out of bed, feeling his way to the bathroom because he need to rinse, not to mention his bladder feels like it's about to stage a mutiny against his body.

He takes a leak, splashes water on his face, and then he gargles with warm water until he feels a little less like roadkill. It works, although he's still exhausted when he stumbles back into the room, crawling onto the bed again and lying down beside the person there -- Asher? Asher, definitely -- and burrowing in for more sleep.

Asher's one of those people that gravitates towards heat, it seems like. He curls closer to Brendon, groaning as he's disturbed for a minute. He says, "What's up?" groggy and muffled.

"Had to pee," Brendon explains and Asher just huffs in his sleep, groping blindly for Brendon's shirt, tugging at the fabric over his stomach and sliding fingers around to his side.

"Mm," Asher says, which could be ascent. It could also be nothing. Brendon's still sort of hazy on the moment himself, not feeling like he was hours ago exactly, but definitely still nearing a full come down instead of already being there.

Brendon asks, "What time is it?"

"Don't know," Asher whispers, and he lifts his head, but the curtains are closed, Brendon already knows. Checking for daylight isn't going to work well enough.

"Where's my phone?" Brendon says. He reaches down, over Asher's hand and feels inside his pocket. Luckily, his phone is still there and hasn't fallen out somewhere. Brendon turns his head to look at the screen as he holds it up. "9:30."

"We've got a little time. Could catch a few more."

"Yeah." Brendon slips his phone back in his pocket as he says, "Happy Birthday."

Asher's lips quirk, gradually pulling into a sleepy smile. He says, "Thanks. You're a couple days late though."

"I didn't know you _on_ your birthday, and I don't think I said it yesterday." Brendon stretches one arm above his head, yawning. This bed is pretty comfortable. Hotels can be hit or miss, but he's slept well so far. "How was party number two? Still feel old?"

"Nah," Asher says, chuckling. "I'm good. How about you? You were -- man. You were a trip."

"I might feel it later," Brendon says, smirking too. 

Asher says, "If I recall, you preemptively shot me down."

"Really?" Brendon asks. "Oh, man, I -- I barely remember talking about that? Why did I talk about that?"

"You were on about your friends," Asher says. He's still touching Brendon's side, methodically swiping his fingers back and forth. Brendon isn't sure when they cleared the hem of his shirt, but he can definitely feel skin against skin right now. "You made it clear, though, that you were off limits."

Brendon laughs, saying, "That's too bad. I, fuck. I cockblocked myself with everybody in the room last night with that, probably."

"Yeah, man," Asher say, still amused himself. "I mean, if the birthday boy can't get no love --"

"Which is just a fucking shame," Brendon says, and he bends his knee, bumping it into Asher's legs lightly.

He can feel it coming. Much to the surprise of his bandmates, Brendon can actually read social cues, he just ignores a lot of them. This one, though, this is one he's always interested in receiving, attentive as Asher slips his hand further back. He touches Brendon's spine, pulling him in, and Brendon covers the gap between their heads a moment later. It's a real simple connection -- two steps to making out on top of the blankets. The kiss is just lips at first, gentler than Brendon might have anticipated, but it's early for them, considering.

Asher hums into it just barely. One low, dragging moan precedes him mumbling, "Mn, c'mere," and rolling onto his back. 

Brendon follows, draping his leg over Asher's own. He rocks to the side, pushing up on his hands for balance, and that's really how Brendon ends up straddling someone at 9:30 in the morning on a Thursday. Asher really appreciates it, if the way he touches Brendon's thigh is any indication, fingers flexing as he raises his head to chase Brendon's mouth and bring him back down.

His other hand rests on Brendon's hip. Asher slides his up, pushing up Brendon's shirt and rubbing across the small of Brendon's back. It's not too much or too little, all just this side of sweet almost, and Brendon doesn't think about whether or not he wants to up the ante until he grinds down once. He's settled kind of high on Asher and shifts back to really drive the point home, sliding his tongue into Asher's mouth as he rolls his hips, feeling Asher's dick through their pants. It's not a perfect move, but it gets a point across.

"Damn," Asher says, and Brendon laughs softly. 

He thinks he likes working this dude up. He thinks he wants to blow him.

"I've got a good idea," Brendon says, breaking the kiss.

Asher looks down as Brendon starts to shift. He says, "What?" dazed and curious, and it doesn't really take an extended amount of time for him to catch on. A big clue is probably the way Brendon's face is level with his cock as Brendon undoes Asher's pants. "Oh, that's a great idea."

He makes Brendon laugh again, and there's a little more force behind this one. Asher helps Brendon pull his pants and underwear down by lifting up, and he's half-hard when Brendon gets a look. He's got a pretty nice dick, really, and Brendon smoothes the flat of his palm along the skin before wrapping his fingers around Asher and jerking him off. 

"Fuck," Asher mutters. When Brendon looks up, he's got the corner of his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, propped up on his elbows, waiting. Ready for it.

Sometimes, when Brendon can tell he's with someone who's anxious for him, he shows off; he does his best to make that person squirm. He's not really in that mood now, lucky for Asher. He drops down to take the head in his mouth, pushing down to halfway and pulling back again. Asher sighs through his nose, careful and quiet, and Brendon tries to remember that last time he went here with a guy, but he figures it's kind of been a while. He's been with Sarah a lot lately, and Asher is definitely not her, long fingers touching Brendon's shoulder and moving up, touching his head tentatively.

The room is silent except for the noise they create. Asher's low groans and sighs, the rustle of bedsheets and clothing, and the wet sounds of Brendon's mouth. He's kind of into it, mostly for the way it makes the scene undeniable: early in the day, Brendon has a mouthful of cock and a dude who can't help writhing. It's quite possible that Brendon is Asher's favorite person in the world right now. He'd be willing to bet on it even, just judging from the way Asher bucks up a couple times and makes Brendon pin him down at the hip.

"Oh," Asher breathes. "Yeah, yeah." He fingers tug a little, but Brendon doesn't mind. He stops to take a breath and then drops down again, and Asher mutters his name. Brendon likes giving head. He forgets until he's between someone's legs again, some girl or some guy, but he likes feeling the way Asher's thighs flex involuntarily when he moves his hand down, just bobbing his head. He likes the sounds and the feel of Asher's hard dick against his tongue.

He can sort of tell when Asher starts to get close from the way he has an even harder time being still. It still catches him off-guard when Asher comes, but it's not too bad. He doesn't swallow but he keeps his mouth on Asher's dick, holding the come, and he makes a quick detour to the bathroom sink to spit and rinse before he comes back to find Asher with his hand over his dick, eyes closed, saying, "Shit, man. What the fuck."

"Good?"

"Good morning and happy birthday to me," Asher says, and he doesn't waste time when Brendon flops back on the bed, reaching for Brendon's zipper. "You want?"

"Yes, please," Brendon says, moving his arms out of the way. He lets Asher kiss him as he gets a hand into Brendon's jeans and fists his cock.

It's really not a bad introduction to the day at all. Brendon's come gets on his stomach, and he just uses the sheets to wipe off, because that's part of the reason hotels exist, he figures. It's nothing these sheets haven't lived through before, which is kind of a gross thought, although in the moment Brendon just sort of smirks to himself.

The best part is that Asher says, "Still got a couple hours," in the next moment, so Brendon just rolls towards him and settles in again, tucking away his dick and letting his eyes fall shut.

;;

The third time Brendon wakes up, he actually makes an effort to go to his own room. Or, okay, Asher kisses him a few times, something lazy and appreciative. He says, "I'll catch up with you later, man," and Brendon's okay with that.

He says, "Later," and then ducks out. He scratches his head as he walks the hallways. His own band is staying a floor up, and Brendon takes the stairs in hopes that it'll wake him up more. 

Ryan's awake when he gets back to their room, and Brendon hadn't felt like he was doing a walk of shame, but Ryan eyes him like he's waiting for Brendon to have a story to tell. 

"Morning," Brendon says, pretending to tip his hat. 

Ryan says, "Hello," and keeps looking at Brendon like he's waiting for something, expecting things, more like. Brendon's pretty used to that from Ryan though. He's got a few years of experience with it. He used to think Ryan was looking at him like he wanted something, but they've been there and done that, and it ended in Ryan getting a girlfriend, so now Brendon figures that's just Ryan's face.

It's kind of weird to deal with it this early though, when Brendon's head feels like it's full of cotton after a night with Asher. And that's a happy thought, at least, a good night of booze, bud, and a blowjob reprise. Brendon yawns, smiling, and Ryan notices.

"Good day?" he asks.

Brendon says, "So far," and then, after a thought, "hold on, I have to go brush the taste come from my mouth," which makes Ryan scrunch up his face. Brendon laughs and feels triumphant. 

He's having a great day, and it's not even his birthday. Other people's birthdays, he decides, are just as good holidays. 

Now, if only he could find a place to get a Philly cheese steak before they leave this state. Maybe Asher knows.


End file.
